


Wanted: A Fitting Gender Identity for a Pan, Superpowered, (Ex-)Junkie

by TerraYoung



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (Klaus), Gen, Minor Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz, POV Second Person, it's "projecting my gender feels on Klaus" hours folks, nonbinary klaus, set nebulously in a no-Sparrow or post-Sparrow timeline, so it's pretty indulgent but I hope you all like it anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:07:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29037594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraYoung/pseuds/TerraYoung
Summary: “Until the second – or was it third? – apocalypse is averted through sheer dumb luck on “Team Zero’s” part, Ben’s the only one you’ve come out to, gender-wise. Well, as much as you can without a label to come out with. You explain your gender as like looking at a buffet and not liking any of the options, and the only problem he has with that is your choice of metaphor.”Or: Klaus and his journey towards figuring out his gender identity.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves & Everyone
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Wanted: A Fitting Gender Identity for a Pan, Superpowered, (Ex-)Junkie

The third time you ask to borrow some of Allison’s nail polish – but the first time you do so when she’s Allison and you’re Klaus – she doesn’t let you right away. She just looks you up and down a few times before asking,

“Are – Are you a girl, Fo- Klaus? Is that why you keep doing this?” She swallows. “I read an article in one of my magazines the other day and –”

You think about it for a hot second, then shake your head. “Not a girl, Allie. I’m just… I’m just me.”

Allison laughs and waves in the direction of her secret collection. She never asks you about it again.

XxXx

You do some research one day when you’re able to sneak away from dear old Dad’s prying eyes and your siblings’ never-ending nagging. Thing is, there’s not a lot of results for “I don’t feel like a boy or a girl – I just feel like a me”. Trans is a great umbrella _(hah)_ term and once you find nonbinary you feel like that fits you even better, but neither really comes close to describing how you feel.

Or… don’t feel? You’ve never really cared about your gender or lack thereof, and it’s never been because of the drugs or lack thereof. While they do keep you from caring about labels or dysphoria or… anything else for that matter, you still (not-) feel the same about gender during your brief periods of sobriety. You just tick off “male” on those stupid forms rehab makes you fill out and wish you were high enough to bury the twinge of pain that comes with it.

XxXx

Until the second – or was it third? – apocalypse is averted through sheer dumb luck on “Team Zero’s” part, Ben’s the only one you’ve come out to, gender-wise. Well, as much as you can without a label to come out _with_. You explain your gender as like looking at a buffet and not liking any of the options, and the only problem he has with that is your choice of metaphor. Something, something, “is food the only thing you can think about?” “besides drugs?” “yes, besides drugs”, etc. etc.

The next day Ben quietly – not that he needs to be, what with his being a ghost – asks about pronouns and what terms you’d like to use for yourself. Even if he can’t use them around anyone else, his reasoning goes, he can still keep himself from using the wrong ones. The gesture touches you, and you stay (mostly) sober through the weekend as the only thank-you gift you can give him.

XxXx

It’s a few years after you’ve come out to Ben, but still at least five before the first apoca-wasn’t, that you have the time and presence of mind to try searching for a better label. Agender has a similar amount of “no fucks given” re: the gender binary, though it still cares too much about gender in general for your tastes. You don’t feel like a lack of gender – you just have a lack of feelings _towards_ gender. It’s a fine and really fucking confusing line.

So when you head to Pride for the free booze and easier access to your favorite drugs, you just slap nonbinary face paint on your cheeks and tie a pan flag around your shoulders. And you party until that stupid line wavers and finally disappears for a few more years.

XxXx

In that hazy period after the latest cancellation of the apocalypse and while all seven of you are finally trying to get your collective acts together as a family, Diego starts acting weird. Well, weird _er_. Well, weirder around you, specifically. It starts with him slowly avoiding you, progresses to him hanging around again but using your name _way_ more often than he needs to when pronouns and shit exist, and culminates in him asking you,

“You – You do know you can tell me anything, right?” Diego’s sporting a really unflattering concerned look – furrowed brows giving him wrinkles and all. “Like, um –”

“Like if I’m using again?” You fill in for him. You spread your arms out wide. “Still sober, bro. Can’t say I haven’t been tempted, but I’m clean as a whistle. _Most_ whistles. There was this one I found a few years ago at a playground that –”

“I _know_ you’re clean. It’s not that!” Diego sighs. “It’s – It’s got to do with the “bro” thing. I noticed Ben’s mostly been using gender-neutral terms whenever he talks about you. And since we’re all terrible at talking to each other, I thought I’d ask you about it before you self-combust from keeping… whatever the hell’s going on to yourself.”

…Oh. And since that honestly bears repeating, “ _Oh_.” You feel like you should’ve seen this coming, but your siblings haven’t stopped throwing you for loops since the _first_ apoca-no-more so you’re giving yourself a bit of leeway here.

“Yeah. So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on,” Diego holds up a knife, “or do I have to threaten to turn you into a pincushion first?” He waves it around for emphasis.

You let out what’s honestly your most dramatic sigh yet. “Fine, fine, I’ll tell you. No need to get all stabby. I’ve been working out a few gender things over the years. Still don’t have a label for any of it, but mostly non-gendered terms and the occasional use of they/them pronouns wouldn’t go amiss.”

Diego nods.

“Honestly kinda surprised you picked up on any of that.”

“Hey, I didn’t get into the police academy for nothing.”

“You also _failed_ _out_ of the police academy,” You point out.

“Not for being a shitty detective!”

“To-may-to, to-mah-to, dear Diego.”

“That’s not even what that – whatever.” Diego takes a deep breath. “You told any of the others yet? Besides Ben.”

You blink. “Nah, but you don’t have to hide anything. Let’s see how long it takes _them_ to catch on.”

“Works for me.”

XxXx

You end up finding the perfect label for your lack of gender feels when you’re not even trying to. Your ability to keep Ben corporeal is on the fritz while you’ve been concentrating on summoning Dave – no luck yet – and you’re doing him a favor as the bestest sibling ever by looking up ace spectrum stuff. “Quoisexual” leads you to “quoiromantic” leads you to “quoigender” and the feeling of something _finally_ clicking into place.

There’s a _word for it_. There’s a word for it and you’re no longer alone with this. Well, you’re alone in being a pan, super-powered, ex-junkie quoigendered person, but far as your not-gender goes you’ve got some company.

It takes five seconds to find the flag, and the rest of the day to throw together some outfits with the same color scheme. And you’ll need to go thrifting sometime soon to really fill out your selection.

…You’re so busy with all of this that you forget that it started with doing a favor for Ben. Eh. Nobody ever said you’re good at keeping your priorities straight.

(Or doing _anything_ straight, really).

XxXx

The high of finding a label that _fits_ is apparently so noticeable that Luther calls a Family Meeting a few days later with the concern that you’re _actually_ high. You don’t blame him, really, since he’s the one who found you the last time you relapsed. It was only a couple of drinks, but Luther immediately went to pour all of dear old dad’s expensive liquor down the drain. And refused to let anyone bring any more into the mansion. It was actually kind of sweet of the big lug.

Once everyone’s in the room – but before anyone can start slinging accusations around – you decide to let the cat out of the bag. This isn’t exactly how you’d planned on coming out to your siblings, but things hardly ever go according to plan with this family. _If_ ever.

“Okay!” You clap your hands together to get everyone’s attention. “To answer your questions: Yes, I’ve been happier than normal lately; _no_ , I’m not using again; and, unfortunately, the aforementioned happiness _isn’t_ because I’ve managed to summon Dave. Still working on that.”

“Then what _is_ going on?” Vanya asks.

You point at her dramatically. “Excellent question, meine kleine Schwester!” After a theatrical pause, you let your hand drop. “I’ve been doing some soul-searching over the years in regards to my lack-of-gender feels –”

“‘Feels’?” Luther mumbles.

“-and last week I finally found a label that _fits_. I’m…” You look to Ben, who gives you a nod of support. “I’m quoigender. And I’m still riding that _completely metaphorical_ high from figuring that shit out.”

All of your siblings – bar the ghostly one next to you – glance at each other, probably trying to silently decide who gets to ask the next question and what it should be. Allison nods, psychic battle apparently won by her.

“I’m… assuming that’s a nonbinary identity?” Allison begins.

“Mm-hmm.”

“So, do you want us to refer to you differently? Use different pronouns?”

“Gender-neutral terms most of the time, and _never_ “bro” or “brother” during the rest.” You take a breath. “And if you could add they/them pronouns into the mix with my old he/him ones, that would be mucho appreciated.” A smile creeps over your face. “Oh, and I’ll need to borrow some more things from your wardrobe too, Allie.”

Allison snorts. “Sorry, I’m gonna have to draw the line there. You’ve never given me any of my clothes back.”

“Is it my fault that they look so much better on me?”

“Well, –”

Before she can finish her sentence, she’s interrupted by Luther honest-to-little-girl-on-a-bike raising his hand. You point over at him and shout his name louder than you _probably_ meant to.

“Right! Um… Am I the only one wondering what “quoigender” means?” Luther asks. “Is – Is that something I’m allowed to ask, or am I overstepping somehow?”

You shake your head fondly. “Nah, you’re good. It’s a pretty obscure term, even if you’re as involved in the enby community as _moi_.” At Luther’s confused look deepening – you didn’t know that was _possible_ – you explain, “‘enby’ is slang/shorthand for ‘nonbinary’. Easier to write and say when you’re in a rush.”

“Or just lazy,” Ben cuts in.

“I thought we were here to _support_ me, not _insult_ me.”

“Can’t we multi-task?”

“ _Anyway_ –” with a sharp shake of your head, you drag yourself back on-task – “dear Luther here had a _very_ important question. So. ‘Quoigender’ is a nonbinary identity that…”

XxXx

When Pride rolls around again, you’re attending it with a fitting gender identity for the first time. You’re also attending it _sober_ for the first time, but you’re trying not to concentrate on that part too much. It’s easier to avoid taking drugs if you avoid _thinking_ _about_ taking drugs.

And, also for the first time, you’re not going to Pride (mostly) alone – all six siblings have been convinced/encouraged/dragged here as well, along with your newly recovered boyfriend. How Five managed to wrangle an alive Dave to the present you still don’t understand, but you’re not going to complain. Much.

So you throw on a shirt tie-died with the pan flag colors, tie a quoigender flag around your shoulders, and then get a _little_ distracted kissing Dave while painting rainbows on his cheeks.

It’s been a long road getting here. You’re not going to say anything kitschy or stupid like the pain you’ve been through is worth it now, or that you wouldn’t change a thing, but you’re _finally_ pretty damn happy with your life. And the long-running mystery of your not-gender feels has finally been solved. 


End file.
